The Highway Reaper
by Alan Slingby
Summary: Eric has been banned from the reaper realm but still sneaks in to visit Alan. For years he was able to get away with it, but will this latest visit be his last?
1. Gypsy's Ribbon

Disclaimer: Based on the poem by Alfred Noyes and the manga/anime/musical by Yana Toboso.

* * *

><p><em>The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees<em>  
><em>The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas<em>  
><em>The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor<em>

* * *

><p>The blonde reaper kicked the sides of his chesnut stallion harder and leaned closer to his steed, feeling his speed increase. Even though it was the dead of the night and the moon was covered by clouds, blocking it's immense light, he was able to clearly see the shinigami library a few miles up the road. Only by night was that he was allowed to see his lover, only by night was it that he could stride up to this realm without other reapers taking him in hostage and throw him in jail, it was only by night that he could ride this main road- no one dared to ride at this late hour unless returning extremely late from overtime or a late night party. He just had to be caught killing that woman and now everything was the way it was. He had to struggle everyday to survive, whether it was stealing food and money, or it was sneaking in the night to his his fair 'maiden.'<p>

One hand was removed from the reins to hold his French cocked-hat firmly to his head so it wouldn't blow off and it be lost forever, there was no way he would turn around to retrieve it when his goal was so close. For a Highwayman, he was dressed formally and quite nicely. Some may say he stole the clothes off a noble's corpse, others may say he robbed a tailor's. But no, these were his clothes that he gone the trouble to buying. A lacey shirt dressed his torso as well as a navy blue, velvet coat. Breeches of brown doe-skin held tightly to his thighs where lay his saw blades that were cased. Boots as high as his thigh were held in the stirrups, keeping his loyal steed in his control.

He rode on under the star- twinkling sky, his face set with determination and need. Just the thought of being able to see his lover made him hot and irritated, aching for any kind of touch from those soft, fragile hands. But he shook the thoughts from his head and focussed instead of getting to the dorm without being seen and then secondly into the bedroom without making a sound. He didn't want anyone being killed tonight or any other night, he was done with killing if he wasn't for his survival or his lover's.

* * *

><p><em>He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,<em>  
><em>A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;<em>  
><em>They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!<em>  
><em>And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,<em>  
><em>His pistol butts a-twinkle,<em>  
><em>His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.<em>


	2. Dark Inn Yard

_Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,_  
><em>And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;<em>  
><em>He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there<em>  
><em>But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,<em>  
><em>Bess, the landlord's daughter,<em>  
><em>Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.<em>

* * *

><p>He rode his horse a few feet away from his lover's window where he saw him sitting on the open window ceil. A wooden brush with soft bristle tips glided through the short, chocolate hair. Every stroke was smooth and went through his hair without the need to stop to pull out any knots. Obviously, he was brushing his hair for pure leisure instead of the need to. He looked up at his lover from the shadows, taking a moment to gaze before picking up a small pebble from the ground, throwing up at the closed half of the window (his lover had only one half open). When nothing was returned as a reply, his whistled a tune to the window and let his stallion take a few steps out of the shadows. His smile was true and wide when he saw his chocolate haired lover look down at him, smiling back. Placing down the brush, he opened the other half of the window and stepped away so that his blonde lover could slip inside the room. He was tall and standing on his horse would help him reach the ledge right below the window, from there he only had to pull himself up.<p>

"I'm glad you came Eric..." Alan said softly, watching Eric grip onto the window ceil.

"Well you know, couldn't leave you alone for too long." the blonde reaper laughed, pulling himself up all the way and sitting on the ledge.

"But... I really wish you would stop killing... it's hard to love a murderer..." he whispered before turning his head to the side to look away from Eric, unable too look his love in the eyes.

"It's not like I'm doing it for fun. I'm only doing it to save you. I'm so close Alan... only seventy more and you'll be cured." he told him, swinging his legs inside the bedroom and giving Alan a serious look whether or not the small reaper was looking.

"...I-I know...I know Eric..." when he turned back to face him, his eyes were hurt and tears seemed to be on the way.

"Please Alan... not this again... I don't want to fight with you... please don't start crying. I can only be here for a few minutes... don't make me risking me life to see you all for nothing but watching you cry..."


	3. Moonlight

_And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked _  
><em>Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked; <em>  
><em>His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay, <em>  
><em>But he loved the landlord's daughter, <em>  
><em>The landlord's red-lipped daughter, <em>  
><em>Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—<em>

* * *

><p>"Thanks again Luna! Great time!"<p>

"I'll see you next week Ronald! Hope you get home safely!"

Giving his date a wink, Ronald made his way down the street to his flat, swaying every few steps. A late night drinking party was always a pleasure for him. The hangover in the morning, however, was not. This time he knew what would be coming if he over did it. He was being smart at the last party and drank only to a point of being tipsy.

_"Well you know, couldn't leave you alone for too long."_

_'Huh? Eric senpai?'_ Ronald thought to himself, stopping in his tracks at the sound of his old friend's voice. Wasn't he banned from the reaper realm? The young blonde couldn't help himself, he knew that gruff but cheerful voice anywhere. If Eric really was here than his senpai would be in a hell lot of trouble. More than he already was. Instead of going further done the road, he turned down the next corner and sure enough he saw what he needed: Eric's horse tied to a post. Careful to not make a sound, he climbed into the bushes near by and looked up at Alan's window. Eric was there sitting on the ledge with his back turned to the blonde. Ronald glared, hard. With Eric out of the picture, he was going to step in and take Alan as his own! He listened carefully to the conversation the two shared.

~~~Alan's Flat~~~

"Alan... one kiss before I leave?" Eric asked, giving his beloved a rather childish expression. One that was comparable to when a child wanted to have a new toy.

Alan smiled warmly, unable to resist and also unable to stay upset with Eric for long. "Alright... one kiss, but why are you leaving so soon? You usualy stay for a few more minutes." he asked, stepping into Eric's open arms.

"I got souls to get for you... my prize, our prize..." he breathed against Alan's soft lips before claiming them gently, one hand cupping the brunette's pale cheek. "I'll be back before the morning light... even if they are chasing me down throughout the day... look for me by the moonlight, watch for me by the moonlight..." he kissed down Alan's jawline before licking the shell of his ear. "Though hell shall bar the way." he whispered huskily, fingers locking with the small reaper.

* * *

><p><em> "One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize tonight, <em>  
><em> But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light; <em>  
><em> Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day, <em>  
><em> Then look for me by moonlight, <em>  
><em> Watch for me by moonlight, <em>  
><em> I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."<em>


	4. Kisses

_He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand, _  
><em>But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand <em>  
><em>As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast; <em>  
><em>And he kissed its waves in the moonlight, <em>  
><em>(Oh, sweet, black waves in the moonlight!) <em>  
><em>Then he tugged at his rein in the moonliglt, and galloped away to the West<em>

* * *

><p>Alan let out a sharp gasp, Eric's words pooling strait to his groin. He gripped onto his lover's shirt, pulling him closer and into a heated kiss. Eric held him close, arms circling his waist to keep him in place. He felt himself blush at having Alan's body pressed into his. It's been far too long since they kissed, too long since they made contact like this. He wanted to stay longer, to stay the night making love to Alan all night. But he had a job and that was to save Alan, plus he really didn't want William walking in by accident or purposely.<p>

Alan's eyes fluttered open when Eric pulled away from the kiss. "Er-eric- kun?"

"I'm sorry Al, but I got to go. I can't risk staying much longer. Don't me exacuted do you?"

"N-no... I just wish you can stay a bit longer..." he giggled, running a hand through the golden locks on Eric's head.

"Hnm... so do I... so do I..." he leaned forward and kissed the top of Alan's head, taking in his scent. It was fresh, like he just stepped out of a shower, yet smelled of his desk from the hours of sitting behind it, on top of it all, Eric could smell death, something he would rather push aside. It was still Alan and that couldn't be pushed aside. "Love you Alan..."

"I love you too Eric... stay safe..." he whispered.

"Promise." with a final kiss, Eric climbed out of the window and lowered himself back on his chesnut steed. He tugged at the reins and kicked the sides, riding off to the main road and galloping away into the darkness.

Alan watched as long as he could before Eric completely dissapeared. With a heavy sign, he closed his window and curled up on his bed. It was late and Alan still had a lot of work ahead of him the next day. He blew out the candle on the nightstand, watching the smoke dance in the air before closing his eyes. It was hard to fall asleep these days. _He_ wasn't there to hold him close and whisper comforting words until he fell asleep and to say good night. It was hard to wake up. _He_ wasn't there when he woke up to say good morning.

Alan had not had one good morning or good night since _he _left.


	5. Tied Up to Attention

_He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon; _  
><em>And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon, <em>  
><em>When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor, <em>  
><em>A red-coat troop came marching— <em>  
><em>Marching—marching— <em>  
><em>King George's men came matching, up to the old inn-door.<em>

* * *

><p>William growled as he walked down the hallway to one his best worker's office. One night ago, Ronald had told him that Eric had come again to see Alan. Now, William knew that Eric had been coming for the past years but didn't do anything about it. Now, he had the final straw and was going to take care of this once and for all.<p>

"Sir? Exactly... what are we going to do with Alan- san?" one of the reapers asked.

"Tie him up and use him as a hostage. The second Mr. Slingby knows he's in danger is when he's most vunerable. It's never my intentions to kill but... this case calls otherwise."

"We're going to kill Eric? !"

"I'm afraid there's no other choice in this. He's no longer one of us so it won't matter if he dies or not. Now, when we get to Mr. Humphries room, you will tie him up with the rope to the bed post and gag him while I watch out the window for Mr. Slingby. Not the one that looks out to the alley though, the one for the main road. At the single, Sutcliff will come out from his hiding spot and kill him on sight."

"You're trusting Grell to do that? !"

"He may not be the brightest but he's one of my best fighters. He'll do the job fast." he fished out a chain of keys from his pocket and in no less than five seconds, had Alan's key at the ready. He placed the key into the lock and turned slowly, taking a rather deep breath. He knew after this Alan would never be the same again. No, he wouldn't think like that. Those were only emotions that were useless and only got in the way. Without taking a second thought, he shoved open the door.

"Mr.-Mr. Spears? ! What are you doing in here? !" Alan shouted, quickly changing into the rest of his nightdress. "You didn't even kn- AUGH!" before the sentance was completed, William's accoplish had tied the gag around Alan's mouth.

"I'm sorry Mr. Humphries, this has to be done." William quickly aplogized and went to open the window. "I wish there was another way for this but... there isn't and that's that."

Alan stared wide eyed at his boss as he was being tied up to his bed post. What was going on? Did they.. oh Gods no! They found out about Eric! As soon as the thought was settled in his mind, Alan started screaming, all coming out muffled and almost unable to be heard from across the room.

"Mr. Humphries, tears won't make thi situation any better. He knew the rules and he broke them and frankly, you did so yourself. Now keep still." with skilled hands, William manged to get his death scythe attacked to Alan so that if the brunette tried anything, the trigger would be released and Alan would be killed on spot (William had set it up so the end spears would go through his heart and lungs).

Breath hitching, Alan's eyes focused on the open window. Easily, he could see the path that _he _would ride_._ He shook his head as more and more tears came streaming down his face, the words Eric hold told him the night before came into his mind. The first time he heard them, they were comforting and romantic. Now, all he could was cry harder knowing that Eric would be there any minute.

* * *

><p><em>They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead, <em>  
><em>But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed; <em>  
><em>Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side! <em>  
><em>There was death at every window; <em>  
><em>And hell at one dark window; <em>  
><em>For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.<em>

_They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;  
>They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!<br>"Now, keep good watch!" and they kissed her.  
>She heard the dead man say—<br>_Look for me by moonlight;_  
><em>Watch for me by moonlight;<em>  
><em>I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!<em> _


	6. Trigger

_She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!_  
><em>She writhed her hands till here fingers were wet with sweat or blood!<em>  
><em>They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like<em>  
><em>years,<em>  
><em>Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,<em>  
><em>Cold, on the stroke of midnight,<em>  
><em>The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!<em>

* * *

><p>He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He had to warn Eric this was set up, that they were going to kill him. He cleared his mind, taking in slow, deep breaths. Alan began to twist his hands, to test the strengh of the knots. Even after a minute, nothing came loose and were proven that they were tied to keep him in place. He continued, however, to wriggle his hands until he felt them get wet after what felt like years on end. As far as he was concerned, he didn't care of they were bleeding or simply sweating.<p>

His clock chimed on the nightstand. Giving twelve dings before becoming silent. With a final squirm, a single didget got a hold of the trigger to William's scythe. The tears stopped as shock instead settled in him. If he pulled this tripper, it would more than anything the scythe would fly out past the window. If Eric saw it than he'll know something was up and could get out of there!

But... Alan would also die if he choice to pull the trigger. Eric had given him so much, had risked everything to save his life. Now he here was, thinking about throwing it all away. He couldn't do something like that, not to Eric. But if he didn't, Eric would be killed and there would be no one to collect the thousand souls. Which either way Alan looked at it, he was going to die.

The only difference that one would happen now without a doubt and the second one would happen far or near in the future. He could die tomorrow for all he knew. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes, imagining that cocky grin Eric always wore. He loved Eric more than one would know.

He had to do it, once Eric was in sight, the trigger would be pulled.

* * *

><p><em>The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!<em>  
><em>Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,<em>  
><em>She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;<em>  
><em>For the road lay bare in the moonlight;<em>  
><em>Blank and bare in the moonlight;<em>  
><em>And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain.<em>


	7. Warning

_Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs_  
><em>ringing clear;<em>  
><em>Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did<em>  
><em>not hear?<em>  
><em>Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,<em>  
><em>The highwayman came riding,<em>  
><em>Riding, riding!<em>  
><em>The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up strait and still!<em>

* * *

><p>The air grew heavy with tension for Alan. The silence was killing him. He waited for a sound that wasn't his heartbeat beating loudly under his chest. Even William and the other reaper were motionless and silent. He could see in William's eyes that he was watching the road carefully and listening to the slightest sound.<p>

_Tlot-tlot!_

Alan's head rose slightly at the faint hoofbeats. Did he hear them or was it his imagination? William didn't seem to react at all to the sound. Maybe there was nothing after all.

_Tlot-tlot! Tlot-tlot!_

Alan knew he heard it that time and sure enough, there was Eric, galloping down the moonlit path and into the living quarters of the reaper realm. He stood up completely strait, not moving a single muscle after. Moonlight poured into the bedroom, Alan's pale face seeming to be a faint beacon of light. Eric was only getting closer with every second. He couldn't waste any more time. _'Now.'_

His jade eyes went wide after the thought. He was always afraid of death and now he was inviting it upon him. _'For Eric... you'll save his life...'_ He took a deep breath, savoring the moment. Mouthing the words 'I love you,' he moved his finger and the trigger was pulled. The spears to the scythe shot out through Alan's chest and out the window, missing William's head by a few inches.

He felt no pain, almost instantly his body went numb and limp. Last, fuzzy images of his love filled his head before Death closed his eyes and craddled him in his arms. There might have not been a good night, but Alan hoped that there would be a good morning.

* * *

><p><em>Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!<em>  
><em>Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!<em>  
><em>Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,<em>  
><em>Then her finger moved in the moonlight,<em>  
><em>Her musket shattered the moonlight,<em>  
><em>Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him-with her death.<em>


	8. I Will Kiss Your Icy Cheek Once

_He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood _  
><em>Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood! <em>  
><em>Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear <em>  
><em>How Bess, the landlord's daughter, <em>  
><em>The landlord's black-eyed daughter, <em>  
><em>Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.<em>

* * *

><p>Eric kept his eyes forward, eye on his goal for the night, a small smile crossing his lips. He felt bad about not coming back as fast as he promised but he found himself simply going and going. He really was close now, less than twenty now. He rode all over to gather that last fifty souls and stayed up the rest of last night and all day to get them. Now, he couldn't wait to tell Alan that he had to wait just a little longer. Maybe now he can quite being a reaper and be on the road with Eric. The disease would be gone and nothing could prevent the brunette from doing what he wanted.<p>

_Woosh!_

He pulled back hard on the reins, nearly making his steed go up on his hind legs. "What... the hell?" he stared in the direction the sound had came from. Outside Alan's window was William's extended death scythe. "That bastard was trying to kill me." he hissed dangerously before turning his horse arond. No way was he going to risk going to see Alan tonight, now that his former boss knew about his secret meetings. He would have to find some other way to meet with Alan without going to the reaper realm. That was going to be a pain since they took Alan off of field duty.

Eric groaned in frustration. All he was doing was seeing Alan, why would William be trying to kill him? It's not like he was going to the reaper realm to crash the library or secretly escort demons inside! Pushing aside the thoughts from his head, he rode back into London. Right now, he needed a place to crash at. And althogh he would rather sleep in William's office, there was only one place he could stay for free without trouble: Undertaker's parlor.

~~~Morning~~~

Eric woke up with a large yawn. The bed he slept in last night was suprisingly comfortable despite it was used to hold bodies so Undertaker could clean them and sew them up. He thanked the higher Gods that Undertaker washed the sheets every week. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and put on his glasses, looking to the clock on the wall. Was it that late already? He really slept in more than he intended to. Pulling on his coat and placing on his shoes, he left the room and down the hall to the main parlor. "Thanks Undertaker, I owe you."

"Not a problem little lamb~ Breakfast is on the table in the kitchen. I would show you but I'm busy at the moment." the silver haired man replied, himself concentrated on the body in the coffin before him. "I got this one last night... thought it would be the Thorns to take him but-"

"Wait, Thorns? Don't tell me that's Alan!" Eric ran to the other side of the room and pushed Undertaker aside to see the corpse. "Al-alan?"

He remained unresponsive, obviously. His features were pale and perfect and was dressed in a simple white nightgown.

"Yes... I'm afraid that it is. William brought him in. There was a large hole in his chest. I thought it was simply that a demon killed him but William told me that it was a death scythe."

"A-a death scythe?" he asked, voice begining to crack as he brought a hand down to cup Alan's cold cheek.

"Hnm-hnmm~ Now don't say I told you this but William's scythe was covered in blood~ Damn man won't that thing away so it was an easy discovery!"

"Spears'?"

"That's what I said lamb! Were you not listening to me?"

Eric didn't repsond, instead, he removed his hand from Alan's cheek to kiss it. "...when you die... I will kiss your icy cheek once..." he whispered, moving a stray hair out of Alan's face. Hasitly rubbing his eyes, he stood up strait and headed for the door.

"Where are you going? You haven't eaten yet lamb!"

"I'm going to kill Spears, that's where."


	9. Revenge

_Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky, _  
><em>With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high! <em>  
><em>Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat, <em>  
><em>When they shot him down on the highway, <em>  
><em>Down like a dog on the highway, <em>  
><em>And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.<em>

* * *

><p>Eric galloped down the streets of London to the entrance of the reaper realm, a snarl emmitting from his throat once he knew he was close. Inside his head, thoughts were whirling about the various ways he was going to kill William and how he could even sneak up on the guy. Lost in his thoughts, Eric rode through the barrier that kept that reaper society secret from humans and demons alike. "Spears you better be ready..." he unbranished his saw from it's case and held it up high, keeping control of the horse with one hand. "Because I'm coming to fucking tear your head off!" he shouted, eyes glaring at the office buildings in the near off distance.<p>

The spears attached to his shoes glinted with blood in the afternoon sun as well as the blood he failed to clean from his death scythe. His mind was clouded with hate, so focused on revenge, that he failed to notice a certain death scythe soaring through the air and heading strait for him.

It wasn't until the blonde was impailed that he realized that he was hit. The horse kept running on while Eric was hanging in the air from the very farly extended scythe.

All he could feel was the pain, the hate, and the frustration. His chest throbbed, his heart was begining to fail on him, and his vision was just able to make up a dark haired figure standing a few feet away from him. "Sp-spears..." he groaned out before coughing up a puddle of blood, staining his white shirt.

"Good bye means good bye Mr. Slingby. You were warned, this is what happens when you do not take the warning as _he_ wanted." his voice was cold, far colder than Eric had ever heard it.

"...don't...don't talk about Al-Alan that...that..way..." he struggled to speak the words, but they got out almost right before his heart decided to go out on him. There was pain, then there was the numbness, then there was nothing- nothing but cold and darkness.

William kept his scythe impailed in Eric's chest for several more minutes for good measure before releasing the trigger to let the massive blonde fall to the dirt path. The blood from Eric's wound spread into a large puddle around his unmoving form. "Good night, Mr. Slingby. I wish one to you and Mr. Humphries." without a second lool at the corpse in the road, William turned heel and left the scene as though nothing had happened.


	10. Hairbrush

_And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees, _  
><em>When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, <em>  
><em>When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, <em>  
><em>A highwayman comes riding— <em>  
><em>Riding—riding— <em>  
><em>A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.<em>

_Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard; _  
><em>He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred; <em>  
><em>He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there <em>  
><em>But the landlord's black-eyed daughter, <em>  
><em>Bess, the landlord's daughter, <em>  
><em>Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.<em>

* * *

><p>It had been several years since the incident. Things had calmed down and eveyday was played out like it should.<p>

William, however, was standing in the room that was once belonged to Alan Humphries. It had been cleared of personal objects long ago minus three things. On the dusty nightstand laid a clock that no longer worked, both hands pointing up to twelve, a photograph of the brunette reaper being held close by his blonde lover, and a soft, bristled hairbrush resting in front of the framed picture. Slowly, William picked up the hairbrush and looked it over carefully. A few strands of chocolate hair were still stuck in the bristles as well as a few blonde ones. He almost smiled, _almost._

Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he saw the reaper couple sitting at the open window ceil chattering and laughing away. When he did look, all he saw were the curtains blowing in the wind and a moonlit path that _he _would have rode if _he _was still here.

Sighing, William placed down the hairbrush and made his way to sit on the window ceil. He looked out and up to the sky. The air was brisk, making him shiver and hold himself tightly. The moon was clouded over and the path held an almost purple glow.

And just maybe, just maybe... William thought he was able to hear faint hoofbeats coming up the path.


End file.
